Penn Epner is Going to Pay
by MightyWordSmith
Summary: CONTAINS SPOILERS. This story starts just as Veronica calls out to Logan from the window of their apartment before the bomb explodes. Some of these lines in the beginning overlap with the show for continuity purposes and to help the reader recall the scene. DISCLAIMER: I do not own Veronica Mars characters, setting or previous plots.


"Hey!" Veronica calls out to Logan. "They don't do Daylight Savings time in Arizona! So, I'm claiming half-credit, even though-"

"Yeah?" Logan raises his arms and shrugs his shoulders in expectancy.

"What's the time difference in Fiji? Penn's limerick: "midday 'round Fiji"?

"Yeah, hold that thought." Logan motions to the Booking Clerk approaching in his vehicle, 'I'm moving it." Veronica closes the window.

_Give it a rest, Veronica. __The case is closed. We prevented dozens of people from being blown up at the high school. I need to learn to take a win for a win, as dad would say. _She smiled to herself as she thought of her new life with Logan and their upcoming honeymoon.

Yet despite her best efforts to celebrate her victory and her recent marriage, there was that familiar gnawing feeling of impending doom that she had grown so accustomed to. The one that told her that she is never going to be happy. It's just not in the cards for her. Penn's limerick continued to assail her mind, "Heroes upon whom we're doting." She goes through her exchange with Penn for what seemed like the hundredth time, "I'll tell you what, hero". Veronica's heart drops. _He called __**me**__ the hero_. Her mind flashed back to Penn Epner with a backpack. "Midday around Fiji." She looked at the time: 4:59 PM. Penn's words haunted her, "**If you're still around**, come visit me in prison". As if a surge of 100 volts of electricity coursed through her veins, it came to her—he must have put the backpack in her car. She didn't recall seeing it with him in the cop car when he was arrested. She closed her eyes in pain picturing Logan and for a moment she was paralyzed by fear and shock. Finally, panic set in strongly enough to loosen her feet and cry out, "LOGAN!" It was too late.

The blast shook the walls of their small apartment, shattering the glass of her windows and throwing her body with such force that the bed one meter away broke her fall. Little pieces of glass had cut and embedded itself into her face, but she did not feel anything. A car alarm went off in the distance, but all she could hear was her heartbeat in her ears. She closed her eyes because for a moment, she felt like it couldn't be real. When she opened her eyes again it would be a dream and her husband would still be alive. Just as the debris darkened her new white dress, a cloud of darkness dawned over her mind. _Penn Epner is going to pay_. A wave of fury came up from her stomach and then out of her mouth. She let out a cry out of deep anger and the agony of her grief. She rushed out of her apartment, down the stairs and around the corner and that's when she saw her car, or what was left of it. The sight of it stopped her in her tracks. Can she bear to see her husband's body and limbs strewn about the wreckage? The car was almost unrecognizable.

"Veronica!" Logan's worried voice tore through her dark thoughts like an arrow.

"Logan?" Veronica cried out. She looked all around, tears blurring her vision. "Logan!"

"I'm here. I'm here." She felt his familiar embrace; one that she thought she'd never be able to feel again. She sobbed, "I thought you were dead!"

"I know. I'm so sorry. I'm here." With every sob, the weight of grief lifted from her chest and was replaced by relief.

When she was able to collect her thoughts into coherent words she asked, "How did you figure it out in time?"

"I saw a backpack that didn't look like yours in your backseat. I was going to move the car first, but then I remembered from the news that Epner was in there and could have planted it. I threw it into a nearby sewer, which shielded us from the worst of the blast. I looked around to make sure no one else was around and the Booking Clerk and I ran as fast as we could away from it. Unfortunately, your car took the brunt end of it."

"I don't care about my car," she said, pulling his body closer again into an embrace. "I'm just glad you're here."

"I'm okay," he said reassuringly, "but we should get you checked out. You have some injuries."

Veronica paused. She raised up her hand to feel her face and grimaced when she felt her cuts. All the sudden she became very aware that her salty tears made her cuts sting. She winced as she could feel the tiny shards of glass still cutting into her face, neck and chest.

"Come on, let's get you into that ambulance."

Suddenly, Veronica realized the ambulance and cop cars surrounded the alley. Police already began putting up tape to protect the scene. One of the officers was taking a statement from the Booking Clerk. She saw Logan position himself in front of Veronica as Marcia was approaching them with a wild expression on her face. News vans and paparazzi were arriving in droves, already interviewing neighbours that witnessed the blast. Some reporters started talking in front of cameras. _I hate Neptune_, Veronica thought.

She thought of Epner and how much he would be rejoicing in this destruction. She became overcome by rage. Even though he failed to kill her or anyone else this time, the media attention will have him relishing in the glory of his sick fame. After all, it isn't an ordinary person who expertly cons people into thinking he's a simple pizza delivery man rather than a raging serial bomber. He must have been seriously dedicated to his craft in order to learn how to fashion multiple explosives from scratch, especially the highly specialized kind found around Bryce Lindens's neck. Not to mention, leaving the backpack bomb in Veronica's car goes against his MO of targeting spring-breakers. This reveals how much Epner will stop at nothing to get fame and glory, regardless of who gets in his way or the wreckage he leaves behind. No remorse; the stamp of a true psychopath. She couldn't stand the thought of his fans showing up carrying "Free Penn Epner" signs. Technically, he only killed two people; Linden, with the neck neck bomb and Don, from shooting him and staging it as a suicide. All the other bombs were thwarted or failed to kill anyone. This means he might only get a decade or two behind bars according to California law, and maybe none if he's sly enough to convince a jury that he's innocent. A pit started to form in her stomach. It wouldn't be the first time a killer was exonerated in Neptune. She remembers the moment she skipped her last high-school final in order to be there for the verdict of the Aaron Echolls trial. At the time, she was confident he would be charged and she couldn't wait to see the smirk wiped off his face when they announced a guilty verdict. Perhaps that's what made it even harder to stomach when the jury absolved him of all charges. It was just another rich, white man getting away with murder. She still recalls the feeling that she had sitting in the courtroom that day so many years ago. It was similar to the feeling she had when she went to Shelley Pomroy's party and woke up without her underwear, wondering where her virginity was. It was similar to the feeling from when Veronica used her college money to put her mother in rehab so her mom would come home, but instead checked herself out and ran off with $50 000. The feeling was the familiar and bitter pill of injustice and she swallowed it often, but not this time. This time, she was going to make Penn Epner pay for his crimes with her own brand of Veronica justice. Jail was not enough.

"Veronica?" Marcia questioned. "Are you?"

"Sorry, am I what?"

"I said are you also able to give a statement after the paramedics tend to your injuries?"

"Who else gave a statement?"

Marcia frowned. "Logan, just right here and Jerry, the Booking Clerk. Are you alright?"

"Yes, I'm fine. I'll give the statement now."

Marcia nods in approval and takes out a clipboard. Veronica answers all her questions and writes out what she recalls, handing it back to Marcia upon completion. Marcia thanked her and walked over to one of the other officers. Some reporters were shouting out questions at Veronica, but she couldn't make out their words. She looked over at Logan. Though the presence of the paparazzi annoyed her, Logan seemed unfazed. He paid no attention to them as he calmly ushered Veronica into the back of the ambulance. With Logan's dad being a movie star, the presence of paparazzi has always been a part of Logan's life, but he hasn't always exactly been on good terms with them. She recalls how he exploded in anger with them on several occasions—rightfully so—but as she observed her new husband, she realized how well he had control over his emotions now.

"Logan, I am so proud of who you've become."

Logan fixed his gaze on her. She could tell he was confused—Logan's therapy had been the punchline of most of her distasteful jokes this year—but she can also tell that he was deeply moved. She felt guilty that it took her so long to say it and she knew how much he needed to hear it.

"You sure you don't want the bad boy? There's about 1001 ways I can get to Epner from behind bars."

_Oh, Epner will get his, _Veronica thought, but she couldn't tell that to Logan. "No, forget about him." Veronica says offhandedly. "I am just so thankful that you're still here. I don't know what I would do—"

"Veronica, all I've been thinking is how I could have lost you today. What if you would have been the one to move your car? I wouldn't even—"

Veronica pulls him close in an embrace for a kiss and he kisses her back. After all these years, he still makes her heart flutter like a teenage girl. _Maybe happiness is in the cards for me after all,_ Veronica thought. _Maybe it's time I started to do my best to make him happy too. _

"Logan, can you do me a favour?"

"Anything."

"Can you give Jane a call and let her know I will be coming with you to that therapy session after all?"

Logan beams his boyish smile that instantly lightens Veronica's heart. "I thought you would never ask."

"Excuse me, Ms. Mars?" The paramedic chimes from the back of the ambulance. For a moment, Veronica forgot she was in the ambulance.

"Mrs. Mars-Echolls." Logan cheerfully interjects.

"Oh, sorry." The paramedic looks from Logan to Veronica. "Mrs. Mars-Echolls. Sorry for the hold-up, I am ready to examine your injuries now. If you could lay down on this stretcher. And actually, Mr...?"

"Mr. Echolls-Mars." Logan adds.

"Right, Mr. Echolls-Mars, I'd also like to check your vitals and take a look at those wounds." Veronica lays down on one stretcher and Logan lays down on the other.

"You're always going to do that now, aren't you?" Veronica asks facetiously.

Logan chuckles. "You still okay with taking the defamed Echolls name?"

"Hmm, I don't know. You know the Mars name has never been sullied and has always been highly regarded. Man! The things I do for you."

By the way they laughed together, no one would ever suspect the horror they've gone through on their first night as a married couple. The siren of the ambulance sounds, and they set off to the hospital. Suddenly, Veronica's eyes widen as she realizes she forgot her phone at home. Her dad must be worried sick.

"Hey, I figured you didn't have your phone, so I messaged your dad. He's going to meet us at the hospital."

"What would I do without you?"

"Probably find a young, hot, rich surfer and settle down with him."

"Yeah, sounds about right."

* * *

It has been a few days since Logan and I got back from Sedona, Arizona from our honeymoon. We used a rental car to road trip to there because we were in a hurry to have a getaway. Logan got called back to work while we were at the dealership looking for a new car. He wanted to spring for a fully loaded SUV or minivan. I love him, but because he's accustomed to wealth and privilege, I occasionally have to hit him with the reality of our financial status. Plus, I'm not quite ready to be a soccer mom. I will purchase a sensible car when the insurance money kicks in.

With Logan gone, the apartment was quiet again. However, I didn't enjoy the silence like I once did. This time it felt eerie and unsettling, but I guess that's what happens when your husband almost gets blown up by a psychopath. The silence only serves as a reminder of what life could have been like if I lost Logan.

When I came back from New York all those years ago, dad expressed that he felt I was slumming it with him at Mars Investigations. He also made it clear he would like me to be in a safer profession. My work as a PI has taken me to sketchy places alone and has put me in dangerous predicaments more than once. I've always brushed him off in the past because I've been able to hold my own. It wasn't until Logan's near-brush with death that I started seriously considering other professions. When the bomb exploded outside my house and I thought it killed Logan, I was overcome with deep guilt and it took me to a dark place. I would never be able to live with myself if I got Logan killed because of a case.

With Matty helping out at Mars Investigations, I felt less of a need to stay. I have looked up jobs and reached out to some contacts, but nothing seems to stick out yet. Just as well—I'm not going anywhere until dad is fully healed from his hip replacement surgery anyway.

I bring a tray of food over to dad on the couch and nestle in beside him, pulling Pony in closer.

"Soup?" He whines. "You know how I feel about soup—it's a side dish."

"I take care of you for a few weeks and you turn into a big baby." Veronica smirks. "There's a meat loaf cooking in the oven."

"You spoil me." He repositions it and picks up his spoon. "You know, Matty tells me the phone is ringing off the hook for you at Mars Investigations," he says before scooping a spoonful of soup in his mouth.

"For me? I don't know why. You're the hero."

"Even if I wanted to take the cases and were able-bodied, they want you."

"Well, Neptune will just have to find someone else to take photos of cheating husbands or wives. And the sheriff's department might actually have to do their own job for a change."

He gives a belly laugh. "I hear most of the calls are coming in from out of Neptune—calls from high-profile people."

"Oh, so governors and judges want me to find their cheating spouses? What an honour."

"From what Matty tells me, the cases are a little more exciting than that."

"Oh, I think I've had my fair share of excitement for a lifetime. Did I ever tell you about the time I did a case where I found out a kinky judge hired a hooker just to have tickle fights with her and wear her high-heel shoes?"

"Ahh yes, judge Cramer. I busted him once for taking bribes, but I found out way more than I would have liked about his after-hours activities."

"We always do."

"See! Don't you want to know what other skeletons judges have in their closet? It could prove to be very fulfilling for you, if not at the very least entertaining."

"I don't believe what I'm hearing. For a moment there, it sounds like you want me to take these cases. Weren't you the one that has always encouraged me to actually put those fancy degrees of mine to good use?"

"Yeah, I still think you should, but Matty is a little overwhelmed right now, especially with me not being able to help. Couldn't you have chosen a more opportune time to listen to me? Namely ten years ago and before your good PI work garners national and international attention."

"I guess I can descend from my throne of fame for a little bit to help a struggling PI office, but this retired PI will need a few things for incentive."

Dad chuckles. "Okay, what do you need?"

Veronica straightens up, surprising Pony. "Alright, I'm gonna need my own office—yours will do—all new sets of listening devices, an assistant, a nice black trench coat, a magnifying glass and my own designated parking spot."

"Parking spot! What do you need that for?" He quips.

"Mother cusser! Okay, well add a black bulletproof Rolls Royce to my list and you have yourself a deal."

"Thank you, Veronica. It will just be for a little bit, until I can get back on my feet," Keith promises. "Now where's my meat loaf, woman?"


End file.
